


I just might tear you apart.

by LifeInWentworth



Category: Wentworth - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 02:30:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/999801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LifeInWentworth/pseuds/LifeInWentworth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PROMPT:  I would love to read one about when franky burned her hand in the stream press and she in the hospital it's erica who comforts her not her dad and she vulnerable & erica finds out bout her childhood& abuse from her mum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I just might tear you apart.

“Franky, tell me what happened,” the governor said to the prisoner lying in front of her in the infirmary bed.  
Franky merely shrugged, “Accident, I guess,” she replied.  
Erica moved closer to the bed, “Let me help you,” she said quietly, trapping Franky in a stare and not breaking it. She could see the tears well in Franky’s eyes before she pulled her gaze away, “How’s the pain?”  
“It’s fine,” Franky lied. Truth was it fucking hurt. Having your hand shoved in a steam press will do that. They were pretty strict on giving painkillers to prisoners and whatever they had given her wasn’t doing much at all. She sighed, “I mean, remember the last time you got your hand trapped in a steam press?” she smirked, trying to be a smartass.  
Erica shook her head, “Franky, was it Jacs?”  
“Nah,” Franky put on a vacant expression, “Why do you only ever want to talk business with me, Erica? Remember when we used to have fun mucking around? You’re so serious since you’ve become the governor.”  
Erica sighed, “Maybe because I think that this,” she gestured towards Franky’s bandaged hand, “is a serious issue.”  
“It’s prison, accidents happen,” Franky shrugged again.

Erica lost her patience, “It wasn’t an accident, Franky. Don’t treat me like an idiot, I’m not completely oblivious to what goes on in this place you know.”  
Franky smirked, “You’d be surprised.”  
“Franky,” Erica sat down beside the bed, “can you please just lose the attitude? It’s just you and me here, there’s nobody to impress.”  
Franky laughed, “God, Erica. Don’t you get it? You’re the only one I care about impressing anyway,” she regretted it the moment she said. She didn’t know what made her say it, she usually had pretty good control of what she let out of her mouth. The pain in her hand seemed to be getting worse, she swore and her other hand instinctively grabbed her bandaged one.  
Erica flinched, hating to see the always strong prisoner in pain, “Are you okay?”  
“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth.  
“Can I do anything?” Erica asked.  
Franky shook her head, jaw clenched, “It’s fine, Erica.”  
Erica sighed, “Heard you got a bit aggressive with your dad?”  
Franky rolled her eyes, “It was a box visit, Erica.”  
“Yeah, thank god for that by the sounds of it,” Erica knew she should leave; get back to work, but it was confronting seeing Franky look so subdued in the bed in front of her, “Do you want to tell me what happened?” Besides she wanted to get that look out of Franky’s eyes; she was in obvious pain…maybe she just needed distracting.  
“He’s a prick, that’s it,” Franky replied simply. There was nowhere to run now when she was stuck in this stupid bed. She avoided the governor’s eyes. Franky never could pick what it was about Erica so much. She felt like Erica could just tear everything she knew about herself apart and she hated that idea, so why did she like talking to Erica so much? She was all flirting and trying to get the governor to realise that she was stuck in this little bubble, but the truth was so was Franky; it was just a defence mechanism for both of them.  
“Okay,” Erica nodded, “you don’t want to talk? To tell me who did this to you?”  
Franky shook her head.  
Erica stood up, “That’s fine. I’ll leave you to it then.”  
Franky nodded but as Erica stood up, she reached out her injured hand towards the governor, “No, don’t go,” she said in a voice that Erica had never heard from the prisoner before; pleading, somehow vulnerable, almost child-like.

Erica surveyed the prisoner but for once, there was no smirk and it seemed no tricks. She hesitated but she couldn’t deny the image in front of her, “Okay, I’ll stay a bit longer.”  
They sat in silence for nearly five minutes before Franky said, “It’s not so easy for me to talk about…feelings and stuff. I was always told to shut up about stuff like that and if I showed any weakness…” she trailed off.  
Erica frowned, “Franky, emotions are not weakness, they make us human,” she paused, “you do know that, right?”  
Franky blinked, “It’s just, that’s not how I was raised,” she said quietly, “so it just…then he comes in,” she raised her voice, “trying to talk about all that shit. About my anger and all that crap, expecting me to be able verbalise how I felt and…,” she shook her head, “don’t look at me like that, Erica.”  
Erica tried to wipe her face of emotion, “Like what?”  
“Like I’m some poor fucking puppy whose been beaten too many times.”  
“Were you?” Erica asked softly, not sure if she really wanted to know the answer.  
Franky stared forward in a stony silence for a while, “I guess. Things just got,” she hesitated, “bad after dad walked out.”  
Erica felt her body tense up, “Bad how?” she knew this wasn’t her place, her job to ask these questions but Franky was notorious to not opening up to anybody; she couldn’t just stop when the prisoner was finally letting someone in.  
Franky shrugged, “I don’t know. You know kids should be seen, not heard? Well mum’s was more like kids shouldn’t be seen or heard and they better be bloody quiet while they cook, clean and look after you. I was just her maid and punching bag. Everything was my fault, I was the reason he left, I was the reason she drank and got high. I was just an inconvenience to her,” she shrugged again, feeling as though she’d said too much.  
Erica nodded, “Oh, Franky,” she sighed, “Did she hurt you? I mean, physically?”  
Franky flinched, barking out a laugh, “You know, it’s not fair. I bet she never thinks of me, she didn’t even know me really, but I have…scars that mean I’ll never fucking forget her. She hit me, but I could deal with that, you get pretty used to that. The cigarette burns, the feel of, the smell of burning flesh. A hundred times and you never get used to that feeling. And the fucking scars never fade either,” she lowered her voice, “People always want to know where they come from, even if I tried I’ll never escape these stupid scars.”  
“Franky, I’m so sorry that you’ve been through that, I really am. You deserve so much better than that, I mean that.”  
Franky just snorted.  
“I mean it, Franky. Every child deserves to be loved, respected, looked after.”  
“Yeah I can look after myself,” Franky said nonchalantly.   
Erica nodded, sighing, “I know you can, but you do know it’s okay to ask for help.”  
Franky attempted a smile, “Not my style.”  
“Hey,” she said softly, “You know you can ask me for help. I like you, Franky, you’re a good person, you have so much potential and – “  
“Appeal?” Franky couldn’t help herself, smirking.  
Erica rolled her eyes, “My point is, Franky, you can come to me, okay? I know you want to do everything yourself and it’s not a good look for you to come to the evil governor for help, but I can be discreet,” she waved her hand, shutting whatever smartass comment Franky was about to make, “Not what I meant, Franky,” she couldn’t help but blush, “I just…I want to,” she wanted to say ‘take care of you’ but decided against it, “ensure you get out of here alive and able to make something of your life.”  
Franky thought about being smart but nothing came to her head for once, “Okay… Thanks, Erica. I,” she faltered, breaking eye contact, “I don’t know, you’re just the best person in this place,” she mumbled.  
Erica smiled, “I should get back to work. I’ll come back to see you soon, okay? Just don’t rush out and do anything stupid, please.”  
Franky nodded; she wasn’t lying, she hadn’t hatched up a plan yet anyway, “I won’t. Thanks for staying with me, kind of forgot about how much my hand hurts for a while.”  
“It’s okay,” Erica smiled as she stood up and looked down at the prisoner. She reached out for Franky’s good hand and squeezed it, “You’re going to make it, you know. I believe in you.”

And when Franky Doyle would later try to pinpoint the moment she fell in love with Erica Davidson, she would wonder if it was the moment the governor uttered those words that she’d never heard from anyone else before.


End file.
